Melted by Frost
by EmeraldRhino
Summary: When Jack meets a girl with a not-so-known past and finds they had connections from centuries ago, curiosity gets the best of him. He will go to any length he needs to find the truth from this shattered spirit and maybe find a friend along the way.
1. Chapter 1

I've always thought:

To love is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to be sure of keeping is intact, you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love it to be vulnerable.

This was branded into my mind for centuries. Shutting everything away in a place no one could find. Locking all my feelings into a chest where no one could hold the key.

But I wasn't always hell-bent on being a rock no one could crack. I have loved, but with that love, I have been hurt. That's why I hate being a spirit. Immortality isn't at all as good as you think. Not many people could see me, and the ones that did would either write me off as an imaginary friend or grow old and eventually be lost. That's the worst part, having watching friends die while you are forever stuck in a timeless reality.

This is why I have become as hard as I am. I have been hurt too many times. My heart will not survive another blow, my mind will be lost if it has one more depressing thought, and my soul will be washed away completely if I shed one more tear.

No, to love is to be vulnerable.

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**Hey, everyone! This is my first story ever, so please be patient with my stupidity. This is really short but I'll try to update as soon as possible.**

** ~EmeraldRhino**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry, this is late and kind of a filler chapter, but it is dedicated to my Grandpa who passed away recently. But I know that he is not suffering any longer and has gone back to the creator and is with my grandmother who passed before my time.**

**Grandpa Francis "Hap"**

**September 10th 1927~July 1st 2013**

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An old man was sitting in his aged leather chair that had been his companion for so many years. It was there when he had first brought his new bride home and it was there when he had to take her away because she was ill. The chair saw the children and then the grandchildren playing with their simple toys and small dolls. It heard their laughter after the silence of an empty nest and it listened to every word of nonsense they would babble. It was the chair that would rest a tired working man and it was the chair that would always be the best "hiding spot" in their childish games.

That chair now rested the man those tiny children called "Grandpa." The elderly man's eyes scanned the room over the many heads of boys and girls playing in their own worlds. One girl, just shy of four, caught him watching and set down the doll she was cradling. She crawled to him and rested her tiny hands upon his knees.

"Grandpa," she started sweetly, her voice as soft as a kitten's fur, "will you tell us a story?"

He answered her by picking her up and plopping her down on to his knee. In his gravelly voice, he started telling the tales of haunted houses and his farming incidents. The other children slowly began to drop their trucks and blocks and scooted towards the wrinkled storyteller. The blond child in his lap stared up with wonder into her grandfather's face. She had stopped listening long ago and was now looking at the worn hands gesturing occasionally to the crowd. These were the hands of her hero, the hands that she wanted someday. Hardworking hands, weathered from a lifetime of farm work, six children, and thirteen grandchildren.

And as the girl with the pale hair was leaving, she leaned close to her grandfather's ear and whispered how she wanted to be just like him.

"My dear," he said, "You do not want to be like me. Already, you are a much better person than I could ever hope to be. For I have done many wrongs and have many faults."

The girl did not quite understand his words, but only said, "But Grandpa, you're perfect. God made you that way."

Then the old man smiled warmly and knew that the person she saw wasn't at all old or wrinkly. She saw everyone, everything, inside and out, and found it uniquely beautiful. She found it perfect, the way God had intended.

"Jo, my girl, you have a gift that is truly special. Keep it with you for a lifetime. Don't let a storm wash it away or else the world will become an ugly place."

The small girl, Jo, didn't understand for she was only three. But she did not want to disappoint the man, so she told him, "Okay."

Her grandfather then chuckled softly, sent her on her way with a pat on the head, and shut the door with a click that left just him and the chair alone together.

Over a decade later, the old man grew very sick and died shortly thereafter. His chair had been placed on the side of the road like trash and was hauled away as Jo watched, fighting her own tears as reality set in. She had always associated that green leather chair with her grandfather, so it was hard to see it vanish like him.

She glanced at the structure that housed the chair and was a second home for so many others. She turned on her heel to walk away and let go of the past. As she neared the space where the chair once sat, she saw something on the ground. Jo bent down to pick it up and noticed it was a piece of green leather that had crackled off the aged furniture.

The wind started to blow and she swore she could hear her grandfather's voice whistle through the trees.

At that moment, she realized that everything was going to be okay. She didn't need to worry about the storyteller anymore.

She smiled softly to herself and pocketed the fabric as she started walking down the unpaved road. She tried to remember the words he spoke to her close to thirteen years ago.

The wind blew gently in her face as something came to the front of her mind.

_ "You have a gift that is truly special...Don't let a storm wash it away."_

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** Soo...how'd I do? Please Review!**


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